But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams - Yeats
Monday, 27 April 2015
Waiting
I'm sitting at the station
The sun is shining strong
Whilst I'm waiting for the engine
To take me to the throng
Of people heading outwards
To the city way down south
To join the toiling masses
In their daily life of work.
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